


Small Comforts

by leinthalexandra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M, meanwhile in Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leinthalexandra/pseuds/leinthalexandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually Dean wouldn’t be satisfied with “safe enough,” but Purgatory had changed that very quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clockworkrobots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkrobots/gifts).



> for the prompt: Dean/Cas and handholding- requested by clockworkrobots.

They’d found a rare spot of shelter when a freak thunderstorm had hit, and now sat huddled yet dry some ways back in a cave that Cas had deemed “safe enough.” Usually Dean wouldn’t be satisfied with “safe enough,” but Purgatory had changed that very quickly.

He didn’t mind the silence so much right now; here, you learned that rustling noises and dead silences could both be deadly in their own ways. This was the first time they’d really been able to rest since their arrival. Dean’s stomach twisted up a little at the memory—the stupid, impossible thought that Cas could have abandoned him to the mercies of the residents here. But he’d come back. He’d always come back. Dean knew that now, even if the fear that one day Cas’ luck would run out still weighed heavily on his mind.

The material of Cas’ trench coat made soft swishing noises as Cas tried to settle in and get a little more comfortable. It was a strange habit, one Dean hadn’t ever seen from him before. He suspected it to be something Cas had picked up during the time he’d thought he was human. And that was a fucking awkward subject, now wasn’t it? Not one Dean was too keen to dwell on, that was for fucking sure.

His vision started to swim, the familiar sensation of exhaustion and sleep deprivation starting to drag him down. He pitched forward, only barely stopping himself from falling over and hitting the ground. Cas gave him a concerned look.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I’m just…really wiped, man. We’ve been going nonstop for days now. Maybe your super special angel mojo keeps you from needing sleep, but I’m still just a human.” And it freaked the fuck out of him, truth be told. He was a glowing neon sign here in Purgatory, and most of the things here didn’t need to sleep. Lucky Cas was here, though. You know, to keep watch and all that.

Cas just stared at him. And okay, yeah, maybe Dean had sort-of kind-of missed the staring. But only a little. “Then sleep.”

Dean sighed. Cas was right; he should sleep, if only so that he wouldn’t fall flat on his face from exhaustion next time they encountered something else that wanted to re-enact the jeep scene from Jurassic Park with them, only without the jeep. At the same time, though, that feeling of being watched, of being vulnerable, was still creeping up his spine. It was a reminder of the way things had been right after he’d gotten out of hell, and he still expected every minute to reveal that it was nothing more than a dream, a short reprieve from the screams and the knives of Hell, and—

“Dean.” Cas had reached over and caught Dean’s trembling hand in his own, holding onto him tightly. It wasn’t just Dean’s hand that was shaking, either, but his entire body—partly from stress, partly from sleep deprivation, partly from the way this place was bringing back those memories he thought he’d almost managed to suppress. Partly from the cold, too, because the cave was freezing. Slowly, Cas pulled Dean closer to him until they were pressed close together, side by side, and Cas’ free arm was wrapped around Dean’s shoulders.

Dean squeezed Cas’ hand hard enough that it turned white. He didn’t allow himself this kind of luxury, not normally, but fuck if this wasn’t anything close to normal circumstances. And if Dean needed it, really needed it, Cas wouldn’t say a word about this later. That meant a lot more than Dean was willing to put a word to, at least right now, but everything that had happened in the past year was too much for either of them to deal with right now. It was survival now, plan and simple, and they could figure the rest of it all out when they got back. (If they got back, the little voice in the back of Dean’s mind supplied helpfully, and Dean shoved it out of the way.) And this time, they would. Even if Sam had to lock them both in the fucking panic room and they ended up shouting at each other till they were blue in the face, they’d work it out.

He could no longer keep his eyes open, so he allowed himself to close them and his head dropped over to the side to lay on Cas’ shoulder. Even just the feeling of another person, a familiar presence and the warmth of someone he knew, someone he trusted—because yeah, he trusted Cas, even now, after everything that had happened—was enough to let his mind relax, starting to settle into sleep.

He released his death grip on Cas’ hand, but didn’t let go completely as he started to fall into unconsciousness. Even though his head was buzzing with the demand to just fucking go to sleep already, I can’t take much more of this, Dean still managed to find the energy to murmur, “Thanks, Cas.” His face was half-smushed into the fabric of Cas’ trench coat, but he was certain Cas understood what he’d said anyway.

“Get some rest, Dean,” was all Cas said in response, and Dean allowed himself to finally fall into blissful sleep, dreaming of sitting on a dock by the edge of a quiet lake.

—-

The next morning, Dean woke up covered by Cas’ coat in addition to his own. His head was now resting on Cas’ thigh, which before would have made him supremely uncomfortable. Now, however, he didn’t get that jolt of anxiety that tended to accompany any physical contact that could be considered a ‘chick flick’ moment. Things like that tended to melt away in Purgatory.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, rubbing at them as he sat up slowly. Cas gave him a smile—well, his lips kinda twitched upwards a little, but for Cas that was practically a full blown grin.

“It’s stopped raining,” Cas told him. From what Dean could see it was still dark out, Purgatory being caught in that strange perpetual twilight state and all, but it was true that he no longer heard the sound of raindrops pelting the ground just outside the mouth of the cave. “Are you rested enough to move on, or would you rather stay here for a while?”

“Well,” Dean said, then stopped. In truth, he would have liked to stay, take the opportunity to sleep some more and maybe figure out what their plan was for getting the hell out of this place. But they could do that just as easily while walking, provided they didn’t end up getting chased by a pack of shifters like they had several days ago. (At least Dean thought it was a few days. Time was really, really fucked up here.) He was also afraid of falling into that soporific state where too much contentment and ease caused him to trip up and make some fatal error. He had to keep on his toes, after all.

“Nah, I’m good,” he finally said. Dean stood, stretching his arms and torso. He turned toward Cas, and held out a hand. “You ready?”

Cas accepted it, and Dean helped him to his feet, but didn’t let go of Cas’ hand, not right away. Instead he allowed himself to linger, just a little, his fingers brushing against Cas’ when he finally did pull back. Cas didn’t remark on it, only followed Dean to the mouth of the cave, where he then took the lead.

“Let’s go.”


End file.
